


It's Raining Dicks

by InuShiek



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, NSFW, Sex Toys, Sticky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 12:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1387177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InuShiek/pseuds/InuShiek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starscream is in heat, and the last thing he needed was to have false spikes raining from some extra-dimensional pocket! ....Although....they could be of some use....</p><p>(This is the product of magic anons on tumblr messing with rp accounts. Silly idea, serious porn.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Raining Dicks

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, this is a silly idea to have dildos that are exact replicas of characters raining from the sky, but, hey, it's tumblr. Weird shit is kind of a given. Besides, it gave me a good excuse to have Starscream frag every single one of them

Starscream growls. As if today hadn’t been bad enough with him being stuck in heat due to some ridiculous anonymous magic, now  _spikes_  were raining down upon him, forcing him to seek shelter. They were  _drones_ ' spikes for Primus' sake.

With another growl, Starscream ducks into his quarters, only to realize it’s raining spikes in there as well. “Of all the-” but he stops short on his tirade when he notices a few of the spikes….aren’t like the others.

Closer inspection reveals them to be horrifyingly recognizable.

That spike definitely sports the same purple-blue as Soundwave, and it’s long and slender. “Typical,” the seeker mutters. Wait.

That dull grey and purple had to be- no. Surely not…

Starscream shudders at the realization that  _Megatron’s_ , of all mechs, spike was now littering the floor of his quarters. He makes to stalk to his washrack and try to forget this entire day every happened, but he hesitates.

That anon magic had left him feeling….needy…..all day….. And the volume of lubricant, much to Starscream’s embarrassment, had only increased with the arrival of all these spikes…. Besides, it’s not like any of these actually  _belong_  to any particular mech…..merely….. _greatly resemble_ …. Yes.

Double checking that his door locked shut behind him, Starscream gingerly picks up one of Soundwav- no, not Soundwave’s- the slender, dark spikes with the purple biolights, and takes it over to his berth.

Starscream kneels on it, opening his panel and groaning when the lubricant that had been trapped underneath trickles down his legs and his own spike is finally freed. His optics fall shut as he slides a single digit into his valve, gasping as the sensitive walls finally have stimulation.

Quickly growing bored of a single finger when there are literally dozens of spikes lying around for the choosing, Starscream slides Soundwave’s-  _not Soundwave’s!!!_ \- spike into his valve.

He sighs, hilting it and grinding down on it. Leaning forward, Starscream leans on one arm while the other pumps the spike in and out of his valve. It’s long and slender, and that slightly sharpened tip is prodding a cluster of sensors  _just_  so-

"Nnnnnhaa!" he cries out, squeezing his optics shut as his valve cycles down around the spike in overload.

Vents roaring, Starscream shivers as he comes back to himself. He rises off the spike, cursing when his valve only aches more than it had all day. Obviously one wasn’t going to be enough thanks to this wretched anonymous magic.

Leaning over, he grabs another spike at random, pleased to find silver and red with a intricate patter of slightly raised biolights, but it certainly did  _not_  match Knock Out. No.

The seeker sets it on the berth, please to find that it stands relatively well on it’s own, and eases himself down onto it.

"F-Frag," Starscream gasps, tossing his helm back.

Unfortunately, spikes are still falling, and one hits him in the faceplate. Sputtering, Starscream bats the spike away, horrified to realize it’s Megatr-  _no, not Megatron’s-_ one of the larger gray and purple ones.

With a flick of his wings, Starscream focuses back on the spike already in his valve, noting how fetching the bright red biolights look and how wonderful they feel in his valve. He wraps a servo around his own spike and gets to work.

His claws gouge into the berth as he rides Knoc- the red spike, squeezing and pumping his own spike in synch.

To say his overload surprised him would be an understatement. An ungainly half-gasp-half- _not_ -a-squawk escapes him as he grinds down on the ridged spike, optics offlining as he rubs the tip of his own spike through the sudden overload.

Gasping for cooler air, Starscream’s faceplates heat up when he realizes how pathetically quick that had been. In the back of his processor he notes that the spikes have stopped falling. ”Faulty spikes,” he snarls, wings quivering as he removed the red spike from his valve and flings it across the room, “And horrible anonymous ‘magic.’ Bah!”

Still flustered, Starscream snatches one of the dull gray ones that has landed on his berth, sweeping all the others off onto the floor. Berth clear, he lies back, gasping as the cool material comes into contact with his wing. The seeker props his legs up, giving himself room to work.

He’d intended to mutter derogatory things about the owner of the-  _no! not the owner!!_ \- about the spike, but finds he no longer had the desire or the processing power left to do so as it slowly stretches his valve.

With a long, low moan, Starscream finally manages to seat the entire spike in his valve, and he’s happy to find that this ridiculous heat he’s in has finally abated somewhat.

Spreading his knees further apart, Starscream adjusts his grip on the spike and slowly slides it out of his valve. His vents are roaring at this point, but Starscream hardly notices as he presses the gray spike back into his valve and gasps at being so blissfully _filled_  after feeling so empty all day.

Truth be told, Starscream didn’t really think much after that. He was focused on chasing his overload, never mind that it was Meg-  _not Megatron’s!!_ \- a spike with an oddly familiar color scheme that was occupying his valve.

The servo that had previously been tracing his cockpit flies down to grab onto the spike as the seeker cries out, arching up as his valve clenches on the spike. With a loud keen, Starscream continues thrusting the spike through his overload- heels digging into the berth.

It’s several long moments before he’s able to think properly again, and he forces his frame to relax (though he’s still twitching) as he pulls Mega- the spike out of his valve and tosses it to the floor as well.

Just when he begins to think that perhaps he’ll be able to rest, having gotten rid of this ridiculous heat the anonymous magic had put him in, Starscream feels his valve begin to lubricate anew. Sighing, the seeker sits up and leans over the berth to survey his options.

Too small.

Too short.

Too smooth.

Ah there, the large red and blue one that matches Optimu-  _no_! JUST the red and blue one. Starscream lies down on his side and lets one leg lie flat while the other is propped up to give himself access to his valve.

With a quiet gasp, Starscream works the spike into himself, and his wings clatter against themselves as he stretches once more. Arms feeling a bit too tired, the seeker decides to try something different.

He pulls his pede closer and sets it on his own thigh, effectively preventing the the spike in valve from slipping out again. It wasn’t in as deep as it could have been, but Starscream doesn’t really care when he wraps one servo around his own spike and uses the other to rub around the stretched rim of his valve.

Valve clenching around the spike, Starscream’s hips twitch into his own ministrations and he quickly works himself up to another overload with a half muffled keen as he thrusts into his own servo.

Shivering pleasantly, Starscream tosses the red and blue spike to the increasingly messy pile that’s forming on his floor. He almost manages to slip into recharge before his array pings at him that it’s ready once again.

"Oh for spark’s sake," he mutters, reaching a servo off the side of his berth and blindly groping for another spike. Better to just take care of this problem now rather that suffer through another day of heat.

The spike his digits latch onto feels distinctly….larger. Pulling it up onto the berth, Starscream blinks in confusion. Purple and…yellow…? None of the Decepticons he recalls sport such a color scheme. “Perfect,” he grins, sitting the spike on his berth and rubbing his valve along it’s impressive length, “Less imagination on my part.” He can’t shake the nagging suspicion in the back of his processor, however. Of all of these spikes that are…recognizable….why is there this random model dotted around the room?

With a flick of his wings, Starscream decides he doesn’t really care as he positions himself over the spike and presses down onto it. Mouth falling open, Starscream has to use two digits on one servo to help spread his valve while the other servo wraps around his own spike in order to relax and stretch enough to-

"Primus!" he gasps when it finally pops in, optics offlining as he circles his hips and gradually works his way down the large purple and yellow spike.

The silver seeker’s wings are fluttering by the time he’s half way down the spike, and he has to pull himself back up before pressing down again, smearing his lubricant around and determined to take this spike. It’s ridged just right and- “ _Ah_!” he cries out when the tip hits the back of his valve, triggering a cluster of sensors……and his overload.

"Frag!" he cries out, bouncing on the spike so it jabs those sensors repeatedly, "This one is staying!" Gasping, Starscream arches backward and catches himself with his servos and he continues to ride the spike stretching his valve in all the best ways.

Finally he stills, frame quivering and armor pinging as he tries to expel the excess heat. Legs unsteady, the seeker straightens and rises off Astrotrain’s- “ _WHAT!?!!?!!_ " he screeches when he finally realizes whose spike that has to be, and he flings it across the room, furious at himself. He would stop and cut his losses, but he can already feel that desire rising in his frame again…and he’s already come  _this_  far…..but…..his valve is feeling a bit sore after Astr- that last one.

Steadying himself, Starscream leans down and selects what has to be the spike of one of the drones. Thankfully these are all nearly identical, so he doesn’t have to worry about denying ownership to any particular drone…..until he catches a glimpse of a serial number and his meta automatically recognizes it as the drone who’s taken to calling himself  _Steve_.

He starts to throw the spike away and grab another, determined not to see a serial number on the next one, but….Steve had been rather more willing to follow Starscream’s orders than any other Decepticon….

Just this once it won’t be an owner-less spike….. Just. This. Once.

The seeker retakes his position on his knees, only this time he leans down on one elbow- not sure he could remain upright this time if he attempted it.

He rests his helm on his arm as he presses Steve’s spike into his valve, and he moans when he briefly wishes he had servos exploring his wings.

But that’s not possible right now, he the seeker decides he’d been wise to choose a relatively small spike after Astro- the last one. Steve’s spike is perfect for rubbing against his overly sensitive valve walls without causing any uncomfortable stretching….. No…this is perfect.

With a sighing moan, Starscream rocks Steve’s spike in and out of his valve, his frame matching the rhythm. The seeker’s cries increase in volume and frequency as his charge rises- his valve beginning to tighten around the drone’s spike.

Keening, Starscream muffles himself by sliding two of his digits into his mouth as he overloads, valve clamping down around Steve’s spike.

Gasping and shivering, Starscream eventually lets the spike fall from his valve. Finally, finally, the wretched heat brought on by anomyous magic abates, and he nearly falls into recharge.

Until he realizes he’ll have dried lubricant flaking off of him in the morning if he doesn’t wash it off now. “Perfect,” he growls half-sparkedly before he drags himself off the berth and to his peds….only to realize his stance is…..a bit wider than it usually is….

 _Not_  blushing, he carefully  _doesn’t_  limp his way to his washrack, wanting nothing more than a hot wash and long recharge.


End file.
